


Rodimus's Star.

by orphan_account



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Improper caressing of Forcefield generators, M/M, Oral Sex, Sensual Play, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5043979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Set AFTER Spotlight: Trailcutter) Trailcutter is summoned to Rodimus’s office to receive a reward. He finds his Captain sitting under his own desk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rodimus's Star.

After the pandemonium had settled and Brainstorm and Preceptor had diced over whose review of the situation was more accurate, Trailcutter was summoned via private message to Rodimus’s office. _Finally!_ He thought, assuming he’d at last earned the right to a Rodimus Star and was gleefully looking forward to accepting it. 

The door to Rodimus’s office was unlocked, but Trailcutter politely knocked and waited. He supposed someone was in the office, Rodimus was impulsive but not complacent and there was information stacked in his desk drawers that he should have the wisdom to protect behind a locked door in his absence. There was no answer so Trailcutter buzzed again and loitered in the hallway rocking back and fore on his heels. After another unanswered silence, the temptation of an unlocked door became too much for Trailcutter to resist. 

Although a little hesitant at first, Trailcutter mustered the courage to swat the control panel after glancing in both directions to ensure no one was immediately walking down the corridor.

The door opened into Rodimus’s office and Trailcutter stepped inside. A little apprehensive, he walked on the tips of his feet encumbered by a foreign sense that he did not belong. But if the Captain had invited him, then surely Trailcutter was in the right place. 

The office resembled a heavily personalised bedroom without a berth. The walls were decorated with flames, figurines sat on the filing shelves instead of data pads and Rodimus’s desk was huge and impressive and totally unnecessary, as was his chair. The presence of power the chair exuded was irresistible and well… Trailcutter _had_ just saved the ship, surely that entitled him to a seat while he awaited his late company. 

A buzz of energy thrilled Trailcutter as he sat down. His thick behind sunk deeply into the plush cushions, the tall steam of the backrest supported Trailcutter’s broad shoulders perfectly. He felt made for this chair and viewed the room from the command position, staring across the vast expanse of the desk at the door. The veneer of the desk had been chipped at by Rodimus’ hands, but it still held an air of magnitude that made Trailcutter wonder what it would be like to be a Captain. 

He swung in the seat, leaned over the desk and pretended to poke his finger into the large button that operated the ship-wide comm. system. 

“Attention crew,” Trailcutter used his best, most articulate tone, “This is your Captain speaking, in light of saving the ship, party at Swerve’s tonight - all drinks are free!” Leaning back from his pretend announcement with a flush in his cheeks, Trailcutter chortled, but the merriment was soon disrupted. A hand clapped over Trailcutter’s knee and he sucked in a gulp of air so sharply Trailcutter started to choke. 

“Having fun?” 

Trailcutter’s eyes shot downward, between his knees, under the desk was Rodimus. He stared up at Trailcutter with a sultry glint in his eyes, poised for mischief. 

“Captain?!” Trailcutter balked and pushed back from the desk, the chair rolling with him, “What’re you doing under there?!” He squawked.

“Waiting for Ultra Magnus, what’re you doing in my chair?” 

“Well, I - uh,” the sound of Trailcutter’s fans stirring up a frenzy was quite embarrassing. Rodimus laughed.

“Relax, I’m only kidding.”

“Oh…” Trailcutter still felt uncomfortable. His throat was tight and his palms felt clammy, he wiped the dampness away across his thighs and Rodimus observed, shifting subtly.

“So what can I do for you, Trailbreaker?” 

“Uh - actually, it’s Trail _cutter_ now, y’know like straight-edge, decisive umm sharp? _Yeah,_ uh, anyway, you asked me to come?”

Rodimus leaned back, face twisting.

“I did?” 

“Y-yeah I had a message saying I should meet you here…”

Rodimus exclaimed, 

“Oh! That was meant for Ultra Magnus.” …and had nothing to do with the Rodimus Star Trailcutter had keenly fought for. He struggled not to let his lips wobble.

“R-Really?” Then perhaps it would be better if he left quickly and pretend that this awkward encounter never happened. As he gave off the signals of a mech about to bolt, Rodimus grasped the armrests of the large Captain’s chair and Trailcutter’s hands flinched protectively into his torso. 

“But since you are here,” Rodimus licked his lips and reeled the chair closer, the wheels made shifting Trailcutter’s weight effortless. “…would you like to stay?” 

Trailcutter stuttered. Rodimus’s hand was already caressing his, pulling Tailcutter’s arm out of his lap. The heat in Trailcutter burst across his chest, up his neck and into his cheeks. Rodimus pressed Trailcutter’s fingertip to his lip, lapping at it gently, his mouth parting sensually and letting more in so Trailcutter could feel the pressure of Rodimus’s tongue and the frightening, titillating suction Rodimus was capable of when all of Trailcutter’s knuckles were squashed to Rodimus’s pallet. It left him speechless.

There was a glow of experience about Rodimus that made Trailcutter feel exposed. His vulnerability and his inexperience threatening to spoil the excitement brewing between them. Already Trailcutter felt tickles of energy swash between his thighs and wondered if that would entice Rodimus. His Captain seemed very eager to please and any bashful hesitation Trailcutter inferred was branded as endearing. 

Rodimus’s tongue wetted Trailcutter’s finger, he sucked on every segment indulgently making Trailcutter’s spark race as he pulled the finger from his mouth and then turned Trailcutter’s palm to face upward. 

“Is that one of your forcefield generators? Are they sensitive?” Rodimus traced the lining of the circle glowing in Trailcutter’s hand and, to answer his question, a shudder rocked Trailcutter’s body. Rodimus continued to draw a ring around the circumference and Trailcutter stiffened, his feet pressing solidly into the padded floor. Just when he thought he’d acclimatised to the stimulation, Rodimus lapped broadly across the diameter of the orange orb. Trailcutter yipped, the strength to resist failing in him. 

“Tastes warm.”  
Rodimus flicked his pretty eyes upward, his tongue still poking between lips. Trailcutter dragged the back of his free hand across his trembling mouth.

“Do you have them anywhere else?”

It was amazing how Rodimus navigated the confined space under the desk. Without bumping any of his extremities and with minimal disjointed effort, Rodimus was now holding Trailcutter’s boot and his thumbs kneaded the larger Force Field Generator embedded in the sole of his foot. 

Trailcutter whined, finding it impossible not to indulge and pushed his heel forward, and then pulled it back again when Trailcutter realised he was slouching. He jolted upright and reminded himself not to get too comfortable, despite that clearly being Rodimus’s goal.

Trailcutter’s other foot was pampered just as devoutly, Rodimus’s thumbs pushing firmly in the centre of the warm generator, gradually melting Trailcutter’s spine. Rodimus even kissed the tip of his boot as an amicable parting gesture before snaking his way up Trailcutter’s body. He grasped Trailcutter’s legs, his knees, his thighs, the pressure of his hands giving a possessive squeeze and Rodimus hefted his weight forward and levelled himself with Trailcutter’s interface panel. Beguiling Trailcutter’s throbbing senses with a sultry breath. 

Trailcutter felt desired and it unnerved him. He wasn’t sure how far Rodimus was willing to go, and just as Trailcutter stumbled over the right way to broach the question, Rodimus stretched open his jaw and engulfed Trailcutter’s interface panel, lapping and sucking, the lewd slurping sounds stirring groans of satisfaction through Trailcutter’s defences. He quickly gave in and let the pressure trapped behind his interface panel surge forward. His spike grew quickly and Rodimus had to retreat for an instance, marvelling at his own talent for luring out the arousal in mechs. Trailcutter's fingers were biting into the armrest, the material creaking. His face scrunched up and his spike twitched. Has he delivered too much too soon? Trailcutter started to fret. Rodimus began rolling the Captain’s chair back giving himself some space and it seemed Trailcutter’s fear was confirmed untilRodimus stood up and leaned over Trailcutter in his chair, pushing his chest out, oozing with flirtatious confidence and deliberately taking satisfaction in making Trailcutter shudder when he smiled. 

Holding Trailcutter’s gaze, Rodimus reached between them and grasped Trailcutter’s spike, pumping him as if he’d been schooled in the art and pushed his aft out more, his free hand stroking down Trailcutter’s chest.

It was too much for Trailcutter to react too. His thighs were almost shaking and he got the impression he should be holding Rodimus’s aft but should he take that incentive?  

Maybe he’d try it and see? 

Or, perhaps he could play with the Captain’s spoiler, which was so big and bright and tempting? Trailcutter felt spoilt for choice and similarly wary of the variety.

Rodimus caught Trailcutter’s hands fluttering. The devilishness about his expression grew and the hand jerking Trailcutter’s spike released for a moment to grab of Trailcutter’s reluctant hands and secure them where he wanted them.

Rodimus had a nice behind. It was plenty to handle, curved and sleek, so appealing that Trailcutter squeezed a handful. His boldness was derived from Rodimus’s genuine want for Trailcutter’s body. It was warmly reassuring and Trailcutter’s apprehension was quashed by the excitement of having his ludicrously attractive Captain choose to and delight in smearing his open, lubricated valve all over Trailcutter’s throbbing, disbelieving spike. 

“W-Whoa,” Trailcutter panted. Rodimus’s hands were now lifted above his head, his thighs stretched over Trailcutter’s lap. His aft and hips rocked and clicked in unthinkable patterns and squashed Trailcutter’s spike between his abdomen and Rodimus. The weight of Rodimus baring down pinched the tip of Trailcutter’s spike making the biolights shine a lurid shade a red. 

“Oh please, oh, _please!_ ” Trailcutter chanted, cringing as the flow of energon pounding into his interface threatened to burst out of spike. Rodimus chuckled and the weight of his body eased, but Rodimus kept shifting restlessly, the soft curve of his lips parting in breathless reverence as Trailcutter’s released spike sprung up and neatly poked between the lips of his valve. 

They looked at one another. Rodimus braced his hands on Trailcutter’s shoulders when instincts took over and Trailcutter helped Rodimus lower his aft. 

Hissing and squirming, his Captain took his girth. Offering a few, testing thrusts first before sinking lower and lower until the Captain was finally sitting in Trailcutter’s lap, rubbing circles across his middle to destress the ache in his abdominals.

“Big mech!” Rodimus praised with glee. His optics were offline and his lips curled with pleasant satisfaction. Trailcutter was speechless again. His fans weren’t carrying heat out of his body quick enough, it all seemed to compound his spark. And then Rodimus moved again. 

And stopped…

Trailcutter’s eyes lit up. 

“Yeah, hello?” Rodimus was speaking _on top of him_ , one hand touching his audio, “You’re coming over _now?!_ No…it, it’s not a problem, I just uh,” Rodimus gave Trailcutter a baleful and apologetic look, curling his bottom lip under his teeth, “No, I get it, yeah. See you in a minute.” The comm. call disconnected and Rodimus slumped forward. “That was Magnus. He’s coming over.”

Rodimus started rolling his hips again and Trailcutter’s mind raced.

“What?! NOW?”

“Yep!” It didn’t deter Rodimus. His valve gave Trailcutter a reassuring squeeze and he bounced harder. One hand used Trailcutter’s shoulder for leverage, the other slipped between his thighs. Trailcutter ogled Rodimus playing with himself, pinching and squeezing his nub, stretching it away from the interface array slightly then letting it snap back into place. 

“Oh yeah!” Rodimus threw his helm back. The stern red face of the Autobot insignia moving up and down, up and down, forwards and back and Trailcutter was mesmerised. 

It didn’t match their initial languid pace. Rodimus had taken a responsible amount of time to thaw Trailcutter’s unease and now that Trailcutter had become a pliant and unobjectionable slurry, Rodimus was intent on rushing to his climax and Trailcutter was given no alternative expect to comply. Not only because of the inconvenience of Ultra Magnus’s approach, but also because the friction rubbing his spike endlessly was wrecking his stamina. 

At last he worked up the courage to reach out and tweaked the tips of the spoiler jutting from Rodimus’s back producing a yowling reaction that prompted Trailcutter to tease Rodimus’s sensitivity again and again, turning the Captain almost feral in his lap.

Trailcutter pictured force-fields and how difficult they were to hold when he was under pressure. Keeping his climax at bay was a similar conundrum. Rodimus’s valve felt so good; ludicrously wet, slick, but full of palpable energy caressing the conductive nodes lining Trailcutter’s spike. The charge in him was reaching melting point and as soon as he felt the first spasm of overload clench Rodimus’s valve, Trailcutter grabbed his Captain’s hips and yanked them down, sheathing himself brutally within Rodimus’s convulsing weight and finishing.

Transfluid stuffed Rodimus’s valve and he sobbed heavy breaths and keens as his oversensitive valve continued to ripple and clench against Trailcutter’s thick spike holding him open.

Trailcutter was huffing and panting, his arms lax at his sides. Suddenly, he was aware of the strain they’d been putting on the Captain’s chair - with every little movement it creaked miserably under their violation. The torrent of transfluid trickled back down his spike and touched his thighs. The lingering ecstasy kept Trailcutter’s spirits in high confidence and his hand came up to tease Rodimus’s spoiler one more time, and he delighted in Rodimus’s shivering reaction. The vibrations passed straight through his chest where Rodimus had been pleasantly resting. Sadly the moment elapsed and Rodimus was prying his sticky parts away from Trailcutter’s. He closed his panel immediately afterwards and produced a chamois from storage to take care of any excess smears that might give them away. 

When he finished smartening himself up, Rodimus proffered the used cloth to Trailcutter, grimacing slightly.

“Sorry, I don’t have a spare.”

At that moment, Ultra Magnus’s imposing shadow appeared in front of the door and dread flooded Trailcutter’s expression. He accepted the cloth without protest and immediately began dragging it over the blotches of lubricant and mechfluid while Rodimus greeted Ultra Magnus at the door. 

Fortunately, the desk gave Trailcutter some privacy. He was just finishing tidying his parts when Ultra Magnus sidestepped into the room and immediately clocked Trailcutter sat, inappropriately behind Rodimus’s desk. The condemnation that filled Ultra Magnus’s face covered Trailcutter like a shadow. Balling the damp chamois into his hand and hiding it completely, Trailcutter jumped up, removing himself from the chair and swivelling it back under the desk. He pretended that he hadn’t noticed the sheen of dampness staining the chair’s material and stood with his back straight.

“Sir!” Trailcutter warbled, giving Ultra Magnus a needless salute that roused some suspicious. Ultra Magnus growled for Trailcutter to be at ease and then looked to Rodimus, muttering about matters that would be better discussed in private. 

As the two senior officers ambled toward the desk, Trailcutter took the opportunity to dismiss himself. He rigidly crept toward the door. The exit was open and inviting, but just as Trailcutter was about to cross the threshold his Captain called his name.

“Hey, Trailcutter?” 

Trailcutter nervously turned back, his neck buried in his shoulders. Rodimus winked and tossed an object across the room. It glimmered under the light on its journey into Trailcutter’s hands, “You’ve earned.”

Trailcutter looked down.

At last, a Rodimus Star.

 


End file.
